Spring Thaw
by SkinnyLittleLesbian
Summary: In which Emma is the product of evil, rather than love. Swan Queen. Updates Saturdays.
1. Chapter 1

Regina took a moment, as she always did, to rest her mule and watch the ladies in town giggle with one another. She cared little for what they said, but rather admired their dresses from a distance. She loved the deep colors of autumn fashions almost as much as she enjoyed the crisp freshness of the air. Her mule snuffled and she placed her hand on his haunch.

"Just another minute." She leaned low by his ear. "There'll be an apple in it for you if you wait patiently."

His head bobbed, which she interpreted as a yes. Her eyes returned to the women. She had no desire for the games their families must have had to play to maintain a wealthy position, but she was deeply envious of how gorgeous their garb was. If she had a gown like that… She let her thoughts drift away to a place where she was a beautiful lady in a deep green dress with a plunging neckline and stark white frills.

"Alright." She sighed, her eyes opening slowly. "You've been good."

When she began walking, he fell into step alongside her. His eyes remained fixated dully on the ground in front of him. She kept one hand on his lead and let her eyes scan the shop windows. Perhaps if there was a dress on sale, she might convince Father that she'd earned a small indulgence.

"You're late."

The baker's gruff tone rattled her. He was abrasive and, like most people in her life, Regina didn't truly want to interact with him. "My apologies. One of the wheels got stuck in a rut."

He glanced down at her cart and snorted. "Looks fine to me."

"Because I got it clear." She snapped. "I brought all four sacks, as requested."

"Put 'em inside and I'll get your purse."

She wanted to complain, but he had already disappeared into his bakery. There was supposed to be an apprentice to do this heavy lifting, but she could only wait a moment without incurring the baker's wrath. Instead of demanding assistance, she lifted the first sack into her arms and struggled with it. The sack was unwieldy, but this wasn't the first time she'd been forced into manual labor. She set it none too gently on the ground.

The apprentice leaned against the far wall and sniggered as she worked. "You ain't heard yet, have you?"

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and resisted the urge to curse at him. Cursing wasn't ladylike, she reminded herself. "Heard what?"

"The Knight is around."

He didn't have to elaborate more than that. There was only one knight worth mentioning – more formally he was known as the Dark Knight. Whenever he was in the area, local villages began to panic, but Regina openly scoffed. His stories were, undoubtedly, exaggerated. The rumor was that he was born of pure evil and that he was cursed with a black stone instead of a heart. It was fabulous marketing, Regina thought as she turned to get her next sack.

The apprentice followed her, gnawing on his thumbnail as he walked. "Ain't you scared? You have to walk all that way home. I could go with you, iff'n you wanted. Protect you, an' all that."

She let her eyes slowly rove his wiry frame. He wasn't tragic to look at, but she could certainly do better. "That won't be necessary. You could, however, take a sack in so that I might get home before nightfall."

He laughed and shook his head. "You think you're better than you are, miller's daughter."

She pressed her lips tightly together and lugged the next sack inside. It took her ten minutes to transport all four, but the baker hadn't shorted her or tried to dicker her down. She accepted the small sack of gold and wiped the sweat from her brow. On her way out, she met the apprentice's gaze and he drew a line across his throat. His smile made her sick to her stomach, so she rolled her eyes and continued to her waiting cart.

0-0-0

As she passed an open field on her trip back, she felt inexplicably inclined to glance up toward the horizon. A mile or so away stood a large white steed. Atop the steed sat an unmoving figure in glinting white armor. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she froze in place. The horse shifted and she wondered for a moment if the knight was going to rush towards her – but the moment passed and the knight kneed his mount in the opposite direction.

0-0-0

In the bright light of the next morning she felt foolish for the terror that had spurred her hastened return home the evening before. She had been in no danger. She kissed Father on the cheek and nodded her head curtly at Mother, and walked to her cart. Father's assistant had already loaded it for her and so she set off down the familiar path to town.

When she reached the open field, she paused and scanned where the earth met the sky. A shaky smile eased onto her lips. See, she told herself, her feeling of unease was completely unfounded. Before she could drag her eyes away, however, a small, dark horse crested the hill and thundered toward her. She could barely make out its even smaller rider. There was a ditch there, she thought. Every local knew of it, and knew to proceed cautiously, but the horse showed no sign of slowing.

It reared back suddenly and its passenger flew off. Even at this distance she could hear the startled shriek and the subsequent howl of pain. She rubbed her mule's ear, asked him to stay put, and then darted across the field. The horse had bolted, but the lump of person remained prostrated on the ground.

It was a young boy, she discovered. She knelt beside him. "Where does it hurt?"

His face was pale and tight with pain. He bent away from her and vomited into the grass. The smell made her nose twitch, but she rubbed his back until he pawed at his mouth with one hand.

"My arm." He moaned. "I-is it broken?"

She tested his tender skin. Judging from his squalling, and the quickly darkening bruises, he had guessed correctly. "Yes. Where is your family?"

"I don't have one."

"I'm on my way to town. I could take you in my cart – there's a doctor there…"

"Leave him."

Regina lifted her gaze slowly. While she had been focused on the small crying boy, she'd completely missed the approach of the same white horse she'd spotted yesterday. The rider wore a helmet that completely barred Regina's view of his face. He swung neatly out of the saddle and stalked forward.

"Henry. What were you thinking?"

"Don't let her take me." Henry grabbed Regina's blouse. "She's evil."

The knight's hand snatched the back of his collar and jerked him to his feet. "Cut the crying, kid. It doesn't solve anything. Your Gram and Gramp aren't going to be too happy with you."

Henry's cries silenced the moment the knight touched him. "I don't care."

"This was the stupidest thing you've ever done." She jerked him forward and backward and he winced.

"Leave him be." Regina found her voice. She got to her feet and scowled. "He's just a boy."

"He's my son." The knight responded. There was no malice in his voice. "I'll do as I please."

"At least let me take him to get his injury tended."

"We have a wizard. He'll be good as new very shortly. And hopefully not as quick to run."

"He's your son." Regina tentatively reached forward. "Yet you treat him as if he were a sack of flour."

"He'll never learn otherwise." The knight's armor creaked as he moved. He mounted behind Henry, but hesitated before riding off. "What's your name?"

"Don't tell her."

Regina didn't want to respond, but the knight's hand strayed toward the hilt of his sword. Eager to avoid conflict, Regina ducked her head. "Regina, sir."'

"Hm." The knight nodded and then kicked his mount roughly. The horse sprang into motion, leaving Regina wondering what she'd just interfered with.

0-0-0

Regina woke as usual two days later, but there was unusual commotion in the yard. She dressed quickly and neatened her hair before hurrying out into the pre-dawn air. Her Father was on his knees – her heart leapt to her throat. He had his head bowed toward a woman with wild blonde hair and a suit of white armor.

"What's going on?"

The woman smirked. "Regina. I was afraid I'd found the wrong mill."

"Go inside." Father ordered.

She ignored him. "I helped your son, and this is how you thank me? You terrorize my family?"

"Oh, my interest isn't in terror. My interest is in you."

"Well, my lady, you have my attention. Leave my father alone."

"Very well." The knight lifted her foot and kicked the cowering man to the dirt. "He is out of the picture. Walk with me."

Regina went to her father's side and helped him up. She wanted to refuse, but the woman was once again fondling the hilt of her sword. "Go inside, Father. I'll be back shortly."

He gripped her hand tightly and she wondered which of them had the colder, clammier skin. Alone with the knight, Regina lifted her head high. The knight snorted and held out her arm. Regina accepted with a deep frown. Together they walked a fair distance from the small home and just before Regina could demand an explanation, the knight cleared her throat.

"My family pays its debts."

"By kicking honest workers to the ground."

The woman's face was implacable. "You will marry me."

"Excuse me?"

"Henry needs a mother."

"He has you."

"I'm the Dark Knight. He requires – a certain level of compassion. We've tried to squash that out, but he has notions."

She thought of Henry's terrified eyes and nearly gave in. "I cannot. My family requires my help."

"They will be paid well." The knight flicked her fingers dismissively. "You talk as if this were a choice."

"Is it not?"

"You may think of it as one, if it quells your nerves."

"But it is not."

"You will be returning with me to the camp of my parents, the Dark Queen and her Consort, where we will be wed by nightfall."

"Do I even get to know your name?" Regina struggled to delay how fast this was suddenly moving. If she just had another few moments to think, she could find a loophole.

"I am Emma." The blonde tossed her head. "And my son is the heir apparent."

Regina's lip trembled. "And if I refuse?"

"It will be no large matter to decimate your mill." Emma watched her closely. "Should you agree, your family will no longer have to work."

Father was getting older, Regina thought with dread building in her belly. If she could secure their future, she had to try. "Will any harm come to me or my family?"

"Do you plan on acting out?"

"No."

"Then I don't foresee any problems."

"May I have the day to gather my belongings and say good bye?"

"You have two hours." Emma smiled, but the expression was hollow. "Until then, my bride."

0-0-0

Twice a week Regina didn't sleep. She spent the hours of darkness staring up at the ceiling, wondering if that night was going to be the night. But when Emma stomped into their joint quarters, she greeted Regina politely and then said nothing more. They slept in the same bed, but there was always at least six inches of space between them. Indeed, they hadn't even kissed. Regina was grateful for the other five days, when Emma slept elsewhere.

Their wedding had been short, and nothing like the weddings Regina had been to in the past. Whereas her people tended to celebrate new love with a passionate kiss and cheering family members, her wedding was sealed with a blood ritual. They had expressed vows of loyalty and then the officiator asked for their hands. Regina was appalled when he pulled out a ceremonial dagger and slashed her palm open. He pushed their hands together and their mingled blood dripped to the grass below.

They were now one blood, or so the officiator had announced, and married. Even two months later, the scar hadn't faded. She stared at it in her lonelier moments and had spent hours tracing a finger along its jagged path. Though she'd originally hoped that perhaps love would spring from the union, as it often did in arranged marriages, the ceremony had destroyed her wavering optimism. Emma's people did not value love or kindness, and Emma was no different.

Still, their marriage had to be consummated. She was well aware that one of her duties as Emma's wife was keeping the stoic knight happy in whatever fashion she could. The first night they spent together, Regina had stepped out of her clothing and gritted her teeth – but Emma ignored her and simply went to sleep.

Most people at the castle ignored her, she discovered, except for Henry. The boy clung to her and she found herself quite fond of him. He was bright and friendly, in stark contrast to his glowering mother. They dined together in the morning and the comparison between mother and son confused Regina. He would chatter on about what he wanted to do with his day, and Emma would pick at her food, stand silently, and leave.

Still, in spite of the constant snubbing, Regina was worried that her time would come. Emma would eventually decide to use her body and there was nothing she'd be able to do to stop it. It was nerve wracking. Night after night, she waited for the blonde to touch her, and night after night, her worries were for naught.

0-0-0

"Hurry up." Henry's grip on her hand tightened as he strained to pull her farther faster. "Do you want us to get caught?"

She wanted to tell him that nobody cared where they went. Instead she hurried along behind him. "You haven't told me where we're going."

"It's a secret." He glanced around before releasing her hand and diving into a bush. She hoped he didn't expect her to follow. Thankfully he popped back out, a book in his hands and a smirk on his face.

"What's that?"

"My book of prophecies. I saved it from the fire." He held it out to her. "My grandparents wanted to burn it, because they don't believe in fate. They say you have to take what you deserve and that nothing is preordained when you have an army as large as theirs."

She didn't accept his offering. The Queen and her Consort had treated with little more than disdain, especially upon discovering her gentle treatment of Henry. She'd thought for a moment they were going to strike her when she'd dared to kiss one of his scrapes in their presence. Yet Emma had stepped in front of her and that was the end of the matter.

"Why is this important?"

"You're in here." He wiggled the book in an attempt to entice her. Sighing, she reached and took it from him. "The fiftieth page."

She flipped it open and read aloud. "A child of darkness, a night illuminated by its sun, is born abandoned. The hardest of stones can be cleaved by one who goes against the grain. One will bring balance; inner fire will melt outer ice."

"Don't you see?"

"No."

"You're a miller's daughter!"

"So?"

"You go against the grain. Get it?"

"This isn't real, Henry." She snapped the book closed and ignored the ache in her chest. She disliked the thought of fate – it meant that she was supposed to be miserable, and that no matter what she did, she would always be miserable.

"You're fated to melt her heart, Regina." He held onto the sleeve of her dress. It was a gorgeous gown, she had to admit, and better than any she'd ever desired. Still, she'd rather wear a sack and have her family around her than wear this beautiful scrap of fabric in such hostile territory.

She smiled sadly at him and returned the book to his waiting fingers. "It's a beautiful thought."

0-0-0

Regina sat uncomfortably and listened as the conversation flowed around her. Her wife was unusually outspoken and roared with laughter when the man seated directly across from Regina made a crude comment about a nearby village. She watched her plate and quietly resented being forced here in the first place.

"Don't you agree?"

She stared blankly at Emma, who stared expectantly back. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't hear your statement."

Emma frowned. "I said, the only way to deal with unruly peasants is to remove the loudest dissent. Don't you agree?"

Regina stomach clenched. "I don't, my lady."

The man guffawed, but Emma's lip twitched lower. "You are my wife."

"As you are mine."

"You agree with me in all things." There was a low, dangerous quality to Emma's voice.

"Of course." Regina ducked her head. She watched Emma turn back to her companion and let a small gasp of relief pass her lips. She forgot at times who she was married to, but there was a cold look in Emma's eye that reminded her.

0-0-0

"Never contradict me." Emma slammed her against the wall. She gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs. "Do you understand?"

Her fingers scrabbled against Emma's hand as it curled around her throat. Struggling to breathe, she nodded. Emma bashed her against the wall again and the back of her head smacked the hard stone. Forcing air into her lungs, she tugged uselessly on Emma's iron grip.

"You're – hurting…" She squeezed out.

Emma froze and loosened her grip. The scowl was perpetually rooted on her face, but it seemed the physical threat had passed. Regina remained still until Emma stepped back, but immediately reached up to massage her throat.

"Don't cross me."

"Yes, my lady." As Emma stalked away, Regina wanted to shout after. She wanted to know why Emma stopped. Something had stayed Emma's hand, and Regina was intrigued as to what.

0-0-0

Regina brushed her hair out and flinched at the sound of the outer doors to her chambers opening and then banging shut. Her wife was spending the night with her, she thought. She quickly let her deep sigh out, as Emma wouldn't be pleased if the noise occurred in her presence. Emma kept her eyes averted when she entered the bedchamber and began to immediately pull her leather jerkin off. The boots and breeches would follow next – Regina had watched this ritual many times.

Normally she waited at the mirror, but tonight she wanted answers. She padded to Emma's side and began working the thick laces of Emma's boots. For a moment, Emma bristled.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you." When Regina swallowed, she could feel the bruising on her throat. "If this displeases you-"

"No." Emma grunted. "Do as you please."

Regina eased the footwear off and placed her hand on the tie of Emma's breeches. Emma batted her hands away – the blonde was blushing, if Regina wasn't mistaken. "My lady?"

"I can do this."

"As can I. It is one of my wifely duties, is it not?"

Emma stared towards their balcony. "It is."

"Then allow me to serve my function."

"Your function is in mothering Henry."

"Then you could have hired me as a governess." Regina snapped. It was harsher than she intended, especially with her knowledge of Emma's temper, but she thought it necessary. "Instead you married me.

"I've seen others at your court, my lady," Regina continued. She placed her hand on the ties once more and this time Emma didn't interfere. "They treat their spouses with open disdain and don't hesitate to exert physical control. I've seen the blood and the bruises. Nobody will question how you've handled me."

"So?"

"So why did you stop?"

Emma stood and let Regina wrest the breeches down her thighs. "Because there is no point in battering Henry's mother."

"I am your wife before I am his mother." Regina corrected. She braced herself in case this was more than Emma was willing to hear and tried to ignore how close she was to Emma's groin.

"You are pretty." Emma finally ground out. "I would hate to permanently mar you."

"My looks have little to do with my mothering of Henry."

"I married you, remember. I didn't hire you as governess."

"You're talking in circles."

"Maybe I like how you look."

A moment of silence passed between them as Regina tugged the breeches from Emma's ankles and folded them. She stood and brushed her fingers over Emma's skin. Her hand came to rest on the blonde's breast band. "Then why haven't you touched me?"

"Sex is a means to an end."

"That end may simply be pleasure, my lady." Regina had no idea why she was leading the conversation down this path – but Emma was nearly naked beside her and the moonlight was glinting off the knight's hardened muscles. She'd seen Emma in states of undress before, but never this close – and never when she was in a position to use her hands.

"Perhaps where you come from."

"Who would stop you here?"

Emma grabbed Regina's wrist and practically tossed her onto the bed. Regina had barely landed when Emma crawled atop her and pinned her down. She didn't dare struggle, but stared up into Emma's hardened eyes.

"Is this what you want?"

Regina wanted to answer, but Emma's lips were forcefully mashed against her own. She uttered a short cry of pain and surprise, but Emma didn't stop. When Emma palmed one of her breasts and squeezed much too hard, she shoved Emma's shoulder. She was aware of her submissive position, but refused to be treated with such indignity.

"Stop."

"You wanted this."

"No."

"You wanted to have sex with me, and now we are." Emma bent low, but Regina put her hand over Emma's mouth.

"Must you always be this brutal?"

Emma hesitated. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or their intimate position, but her stoic façade began to crumble. "I don't know any other way."

"I can show you." Regina promised.


	2. Chapter 2

Regina woke and blanched at the cold air. She cuddled closer to the body next to her and pulled the sheet up to her neck. Emma shifted and wrapped her arms around Regina's shoulders. The blonde lug was still asleep, Regina noted, and much more affectionate in such a state. She pressed a kiss to Emma's shoulder and closed her eyes.

This was bearable. If Emma could be as gentle as she was the night before, Regina had no fear for her future. As strong as Emma was, was as tender as she could be as well. Regina smiled as she drifted back to sleep, remembering the slow passionate hours where their bodies writhed together and she taught Emma to be sweet.

0-0-0

The next time she awoke, the bed was empty and she was once again freezing cold. She eased out of bed and wrapped a silky robe around her body. Cinching it at the waist, she padded across the stony floor and headed to her bureau. Judging by the amount of light filling the room, she estimated it to be just after eight. She'd slept longer than she normally would have. Perhaps her rest was a side effect of her evening's activities with Emma, she thought.

"Regina?"

She finished the last tie of her dress and turned. She was grateful she'd gotten dressed in time – as she didn't want to explain to her step-son why she was naked. He was, no doubt, aware of what adults did together, but he wouldn't understand what it meant. He'd think she was breaking Emma's curse, rather than protecting herself.

"Is it time for breakfast?"

He slipped into the chamber and bounded to her side. "Yes! Emma is already waiting. She said I should go get you, because you're running late."

"I'll just be a moment, Henry."

He eyed the purpling bruise just below her left ear. Her hand flew up to cover it. "Did she hurt you?"

"No," Regina said, her heart hammering. He was watching her with large, curious eyes, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "It's nothing, Henry. Go to breakfast and I'll be there in a few minutes."

She could tell he had more to say, but he thought better of it and nodded. "Don't take too long. We have a lot to talk about."

After he left, she leaned against the bureau and took several steadying breaths. Life was more than prophecies and the only thing fate had to offer her was misery. There were those that waited for fate, and those that took life into their own hands and forced it into submission. So while fate may have dealt her a poor hand, she was going to make it work for her.

With one last sigh, she strode out of the chamber and to the small dining table. Emma waited at the head, her legs spread, her arms crossed over her stomach, and her eyes watching the ceiling. Henry bounced in his chair and beamed when she sat across from him.

"Can we go riding today?"

Regina glanced over at Emma, who stolidly ignored them. "I suppose that would be okay."

"I got you a horse," Emma added, though her gaze remained upwards.

"You did?" Henry sputtered. He seemed just as shocked as Regina felt.

"Yes. It wouldn't look right if I wasn't providing for you both."

Despite Emma's gruff tone, Regina thought maybe the blonde's real motivation was pleasing her. "Will you take us to the stable and show us?"

"I have to get to the practice yards."

Henry watched her and frowned. "You always have to go to the practice yards."

"Would you rather I let my skills degrade?" Emma stood abruptly. "Would you prefer I let myself get impaled in the next battle because I was so intent on spending time with you?"

He stared down at his plate, properly chastised. "No."

"Then go to the stables yourself." Emma stalked away.

Regina met Henry's sorrowful gaze. "I'm not sure what you were expecting."

"You didn't change her."

"She spoke," Regina retorted defensively. "That's progress, isn't it?"

"She should say nicer things… Her heart is just as hard as ever."

"You can show me the stables, Henry. She doesn't need to be with us."

As he stood and slouched away, she was suddenly struck by the thought that he wasn't trying to fulfill the prophecy for Emma's sake but his own. It must have been a lonely life growing up in a castle where his only purpose was to stay out of the way and learn his lessons. She doubted anyone had so much as hugged him. The idea made her heart ache.

As a child, she'd suffered minor abuses at her mother's hands. It was nothing she couldn't overcome – small swats when she misspoke, missed meals when she misbehaved – but her father was ever present. He had brushed away her tears and hugged her as she cried. What Cora referred to as petulant sniveling, he called letting out her feelings, which was, in his words, entirely necessary.

Henry had probably never been told it was okay to cry. He'd never been comforted, or shown affection. She followed after him and resolved to love him deeply enough that his past hurts were forgotten.

0-0-0

"This is Bear!" Henry gestured to a horse that whickered in greeting when they entered. Henry ducked into the stall and placed his hand on Bear's white muzzle. "I've had him for years, even before I was big enough to ride him. I had a pony for a while, but just so I could learn before I got him. He's nice and gentle."

"He certainly is a handsome beast." Regina admired his lean build – he was obviously well fed, but also well exercised. His ears twitched as they took in every sound of the stable, but his eyes were relaxed. "And he seems to trust you."

"Well, yeah. I don't use a whip on him. Not like they do," he grumbled.

"Get him saddled. I'll find my mount, and we'll go for a ride."

Regina headed deeper into the stable. A stable hand pointed her to the penultimate stall and she walked as quickly as she could to it. When she was a young girl, her father had insisted on teaching her how to ride. Her horse had been a mean tempered animal that had fought her every demand. Still, she appreciated the lessons as now she felt confident in riding tamer horses. She stopped in front of the stall and stared at the behemoth waiting for her.

"His name is Rocinante." The stable boy commented. "Just got him in from the Western Lands. Name means 'the Night' in their language."

"Rocinante," she repeated. She stepped forward and offered her flat palm to him. He whuffled and eyed her suspiciously.

"These horses are known to be loyal. Takes a bit to gain their trust, though. Try an apple?"

She glared at him. That had been her plan in the first place, and she didn't need his stupid advice. Who was he to second-guess her decisions? Or tell her how to manage her affairs? He dug into a sack and offered her an apple, but she brushed past him and selected her own. Instead of being offended, he grinned.

She approached the stall again and offered the apple. Rocinante ignored her. His dismissal made her stomach flip – that brought the total number of creatures who supposedly belonged to her, but didn't want to recognize her existence, to two. Unwilling to let this horse control her, she stood firm and still with her hand outstretched.

"He senses your energy."

"Nobody asked you."

The boy shrugged and offered the stallion his apple. Regina felt righteous indignation flare through her when the blasted animal munched away without a care in the world. She reared back, ready to put the boy in his place, but then she caught sight of his eyes.

"See? If you're calm, he'll be calm."

"What's your name?"

"Daniel," the boy responded. He had a mop of brown hair atop his head, an easy smile, and the kindest eyes Regina had seen in months.

"How is it you know so much about horses?"

"I was raised on a farm. My father broke horses – and he taught me a bit of his trade." Daniel ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to be presumptuous, my lady."

"Don't call me that."

"What shall I call you, then?"

"Regina."

"Rocinante is a good mount. Once he trusts you, he'll do whatever you ask of him, Regina."

"And you say it's my energy?"

"Think of something happy."

What did she have to be happy about? She shut her eyes, grimaced, and searched her memories for some moment of peace – and found herself reliving the previous evening. When she opened her eyes again, the horse was directly in front of her. He lowered his mouth and she felt his lips brush across her skin. In three chomps, the apple was gone and his muzzle was in her hand. Feeling bold, but maintaining her cool demeanor, she moved her hand to his shoulder.

"Can I ask what you thought about?" Daniel moved closer to her. "You've had such a dark cloud hanging over you – but it dissipated."

"I can't say."

"It must be something quite precious to you."

"Perhaps." Feeling exposed, she cleared her throat and stepped away. His kindness was attractive and dangerous. "Fetch me a saddle."

He nodded curtly and turned to do his job. It was better she maintained an emotional distance. No good would come from relying on anyone but herself. He brought her the requested gear and left her in peace.

0-0-0

"Do you enjoy your lessons?"

Henry's grip on his reins tightened. "I do."

"You don't sound certain." Regina inhaled slowly, letting the cold winter air fill her lungs and sharpen her focus.

"It's just – it all seems so one-sided. They only tell me what they want me to hear – but everyone has a story, don't they?"

"I suppose."

"The people my grandparents attacked, I don't think they deserved it. My tutors claim that my family has a divine right in its leadership, that they only attack to stabilize our kingdom and to forge alliances." He pulled Bear to a halt and turned in his saddle to face her. She couldn't quite read the emotion on his face, but his brow was furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

"History is told by the victors, Henry."

"But that's-"

"Biased," she completed for him. "You're a smart boy, Henry."

All at once his expression lightened. "You think I'm smart?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Surely your tutors tell you-"

"They tell me my mind wanders. They tell me that a King has no imagination, save for in matters relating to expanding his kingdom. They never tell me that I'm smart."

"Then they've made a grave error."

His grin made her feel weightless. "Can we do this every day?"

"When the snow falls, it might not be prudent."

"Well, once a week?"

"We'll see." To avoid a downswing in his mood, she hurried to add, "But we can sit together in the library if you'd like."

"Do you know any stories?"

"What sort?"

"Any kind. The books in the library are all about war and strategy. I want to hear about heroes fighting dragons, and good triumphing over evil. Like you will, with Emma."

"Why don't you call her mother?"

He winced. "I did when I was a little kid, but I was whipped for it. I outrank her and I can't show deference."

"You outrank her?"

"The Queen stripped away her privileges at birth."

"I don't know this story," Regina said. "Perhaps today you can tell me this one, and tomorrow I'll think of one for you."

"Once upon a time…"

0-0-0

"You must push, my Queen."

Snow's hands fastened around David's wrist so tightly that his fingertips began turning blue. She turned her hateful gaze on him and practically spat venom at him. "Never again."

"Snow. This boy will be our heir," he soothed. "There is nothing to worry about."

"I'll have you beheaded if you ever touch me again."

"Keep pushing."

She strained, her nails slicing into his skin. He winced at the blood drawn forth, but didn't try to pull away. Her head fell back against the pillows and she pushed harder. The midwife between her legs coaxed her through the next several minutes and received the silent baby when it popped free of Snow. She allowed David to slash his dagger through the umbilical cord, wiped the baby down, and slid it into Snow's waiting arms.

"A girl, my Queen."

"Why isn't she crying?"

"I'm not sure." The midwife bowed her head.

Snow shoved the baby back at the midwife. "Make her cry. Silence is a sign of weakness."

The midwife rubbed the baby's back, but still it was quiet. Her eyes drifted to the impassive Queen's face. "I can't, my Queen."

"Then dispose of her."

"What?"

"She won't live past infancy." Snow wiped at her forehead and transferred her gaze to David. "I suppose we will have to try again. Should you give me another failure, I'll-"

"Have me beheaded."

"Why are you still holding it?"

"I beg you, my Queen. Please reconsider. If you'll allow me, I'll raise her. She may not be strong now, but should she live, she could prove useful. This pregnancy was hard to come by. What will you do if no other occurs?"

Snow frowned and flapped her hand. "Very well. But if you ever question my authority again, you'll face my wrath. You're lucky I'm exhausted."

The midwife clutched the baby to her chest. "What is her name?"

"I don't care. You name her."

"Is Emma acceptable?"

"It will fit on a headstone just as well as any other."

Taking Emma from the room, the midwife pressed a kiss to her reddened forehead.

0-0-0

"So eventually Emma proved herself worthy by becoming the best, strongest knight in the realm. They let her come home and then she had me. I guess I cried pretty loudly, because they passed her birth right to me."

Regina urged Rocinante back into motion. She wasn't sure how she felt about this additional information about Emma. It certainly softened her image of the woman, but she was unclear if she ought to say something, or try to explain that she understood. Was she even supposed to know? She wondered.

"We've been out for a while. Would you like to return for lunch?"

He shook his head. "We're almost to the practice grounds. Maybe we could go see what Emma is up to?"

"Perhaps another day. I don't think she'd appreciate our interrupting her work."

His smile faltered. "You're right."

"Let's go home," she urged. "We'll do something fun that you can tell her about later."

"She won't care."

"Maybe she just doesn't know how much it means to you."

"Maybe."

She nudged Rocinante up next to Bear and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me about your favorite ways to spend your free time – so that we can plan the rest of our winter."

This brightened his spirits and he launched into a very detailed description of what he did with his days before she arrived. She listened to him, but let her mind wander. Emma was a walking contradiction, she mused – capable of great kindness, but crippled by an inability to be anything but cross. Still, it didn't seem impossible to bring Emma around to at least treating her and Henry with a modicum of respect.

0-0-0

Emma tossed her helm aside. A servant scrambled to pick it up and dust the dirt from its crevasses, but she paid him no mind. She stripped the rest of her garb off and stepped into the river. The cold water sent shivers up her spine, but she needed to wash the sweat from her skin. During the summer, this was her favorite place to swim; as soon as cold weather moved in, though, the water turned frigid. She bore the pain without so much as a grimace.

All through practice, she couldn't shake the feeling of waking up to Regina sleeping in her arms. The first moment had been blissful. She pulled Regina closer and reveled in their mingled scent. The brunette was warm in her arms, a stark contrast to the bitter air around them. This, Emma had thought, was what it must feel like to be happy. The moment had shattered though when she'd spotted a bruise under Regina's ear. Despite her best efforts, she had still brutalized her wife. So much for learning to be gentle, she groused.

"My lady?"

"What?"

"Your lips are turning blue."

She glared at him. "I'm aware of how cold it is. Thank you, though, for your update."

He winced as if she'd smacked him and nodded his head. "I'm sorry, my lady. You seemed lost in thought."

"Even if I were, that is none of your concern."

"My apologies," he repeated.

She turned away and brought her fingers to her lips. She was almost frozen through, she realized. She waded back to shore and snatched the offered cloth. Moving quickly, she dried her skin and pulled her clothing back on.

It was better, she decided, to keep Regina at arm's length. The woman had awoken feelings in her that she'd never even dreamed about before and she wouldn't ruin that by being her regular brutish self. She couldn't change, either, as her responsibilities to the realm and her parents required her harsh manner. To keep Regina safe, she would establish distance.

The servant hurried along behind her as she strode up the path back to the castle. There were untold dangers at the Dark Court, Emma thought, and she wasn't going to be one of them. Regina would have enough to watch out for without dealing with her.

0-0-0

Regina finished her dinner and waited for Emma, as was required of her. She smiled when spoken to, and agreed with whatever Emma said. Occasionally she caught a flicker of appreciation in Emma's eyes, but she was half sure she imagined those. She sipped from her goblet of water and let her eyes wander up and down the table. Nobody would meet her gaze, but that fact had long since ceased to offend her.

"How are you holding up?"

Unused to being addressed directly, Regina flinched. She turned her head and met the level gaze of a blonde woman to her left. The woman smiled at her.

"Excuse me?" Aware that this could be some sort of social trap, Regina kept her tone even.

"How are you?" The woman repeated her question and tilted her head to the side.

"Well." Regina wasn't sure who was listening, or who this stranger would tell; in any event, she had no interest in sharing her true feelings with anyone. "Yourself?"

The woman laughed and leaned forward on to her elbow. "To answer your real question, I'm Lady Kathryn. My husband Fredrick works with your wife."

"Ah. I've never seen you before."

"We just returned from our travels. The Queen sent us out to investigate a village's claim. Of course, even being so far away, Court gossip reached our ears. The Queen's daughter finally marrying was certainly highly discussed." To counteract Regina's suddenly disinterested expression, Kathryn continued, "I'm not normally one for gossip, but it was said that you are no noble?"

"I was not."

"How was it you proved yourself worthy?"

"I don't see how this is your business."

"Excuse me," Kathryn clasped her hands over Regina's. "I didn't mean to offend. I merely thought you could use a friend."

"Regina."

Regina's head shifted to the right and her eyes lighted upon Emma's. Her wife didn't look terribly pleased. "Yes?"

"My meal is concluded."

Recognizing this as their cue to leave, Regina turned back to Kathryn. "It was lovely to meet you."

Emma scooted her chair back, and Regina quickly did the same. They headed down the corridor together, and Regina's heart pounded quickly – were they, she pondered, heading for their shared bedchamber? She had to admit, she wouldn't be against a repeat of the night before.

They paused, however, just outside and Emma stared at her. "You ought to be cautious about who you trust."

"Are you talking about Kathryn?"

Emma's gaze flitted to the far wall and her jaw tightened. Regina watched a muscle tic and wondered idly if Emma was jealous that someone else was interested in talking to her. Rather than answer the posed question, Emma shifted from foot to foot and growled.

"You are my responsibility, Regina."

"Have I angered you?"

"This is not a mill, you dumb woman."

Regina recoiled. "I never thought it was, my lady."

Emma hated Regina's use of her title. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name rolling off Regina's tongue, but that wouldn't further her goal of keeping Regina safe. If Emma wanted to create a barrier, she had to accept the necessary formalities.

"Then keep your wits about you. I didn't marry you because you were stupid."

"You married me because you were." The need to fight back swelled in Regina's breast, but there was so very little she could actually do beyond jabbing Emma with verbal barbs.

Emma's hand trembled, but she didn't move to harm the other woman. "Remember your place. Remember who I am."

"I know who you are," Regina accused. "I knew you quite intimately last night."

Emma's mouth quivered, but she spun away before she could lash out. "Go to sleep, Regina."

"Fine." Regina entered her chambers and slammed the door.


	3. Chapter 3

When the blade came whipping down at her shoulder, Emma braced the flat of her sword with her palm and caught the blow. The man attacking her was quite a bit bulkier than she was and his muscles strained against his tunic as he forced her down to her knees. She gritted her teeth and tensed her thighs. A roar ripped out of her throat as she spun to the side. His blade nearly nicked her shoulder, but she was agile.

He stumbled forward, the inertia of his force knocking him off balance. Using the opening efficiently, Emma slammed the hilt of her sword against the back of his head. He groaned, dropped to his knees, and then face-planted into the dirt. Emma sheathed her blade, wiped the sweat from her brow and beckoned for her squire to bring her some water.

"Kill him."

Emma accepted the small cup from the man and turned to face her mother. "There's no point. He's been dealt with."

"He questioned your ability to lead."

"And I dealt with him."

"He'll claim you cheated," Snow spoke clearly, as if Emma were a wayward child. She stepped over the fallen man and gripped Emma's sword. One clean tug lifted the blade back out of the sheath. She ran her finger over the edge and smiled as her skin burst open. "Don't let his mistaken claims breed dissent."

"I'll fight him as many times as he wants. There's no justification for killing an unconscious man."

"Perhaps the next time he'll win."

"Is that what you want?" Emma waited for Snow to finish examining her sword, but took it back as soon as she could.

"Of course not, darling." Despite the implied fondness of her words, Snow's tone was cold. Her eyes slid along Emma's lithe form and Emma thought she detected disappointment in her mother's gaze. "You were raised to be strong – to lead our armies to victory. It would be a shame if the Dark Knight were cut down by a peasant with an inflated sense of self."

Snow had no idea how she was raised, Emma wanted to argue. She wasn't raised to be strong; she was raised to survive. The midwife had always told her of the circumstances of her birth and continuously enforced the idea that if she worked hard enough, her biological parents would let her live. She didn't gain her skill to conquer foreign lands, or slaughter defenseless men. She became a fierce fighter to win her parent's affection – and subsequently, her right to live.

During the annual games, Emma had entered and beaten her way through the ranks in sword fighting, jousting, and archery. The prize was a mock-duel with the current Dark Knight – a man who was incredibly surprised when she swung at him with real intent to do harm.

"He won't win," Emma stated. She went to sheath the sword once more, but Snow caught her wrist.

"I want you to have your best chance at success. Kill him now and save yourself the pain later."

"No."

"The people have started to take notice," Snow murmured. "I've heard rumors that you're going soft – that your wife has dulled your blade. This man was the first of many, all eager to prove that you're not as great as your reputation."

"I won't kill him."

"You-"

"Be quiet," Emma snapped. "Don't pretend to know what I need to do. You forfeited that right the moment you gave me away. I'm in charge of running my life now, my Queen. You may command my official actions, but I'm in command of this army. I say that leaving him alive is for the best. A dead man cannot attack me again, true, but no more can he fight in our ranks. We don't have enough soldiers to cast away human life so frivolously."

Snow tugged the sword from her grip and plunged it into the man's back. The man groaned, his mouth frothed with blood, and then he fell still. Snow left the blade where it stood erect and wandered to the edge of the practice field.

"Your blade shows signs of disuse, daughter. You should yearn for the blood of those that oppose us, just as your blade hungers for flesh. Don't deny it or yourself."

"Damn it," Emma muttered. The man had been stupid and hulking, but neither quality was deserving of death. He'd thought himself her better, and she'd proven him wrong. Snow's disdain for his life set her teeth on edge. She knelt beside his body, yanked her sword free, and wiped the blade along his tunic to remove the blood.

"Your son has arrived."

Emma glared at her squire, a lad who once had a bright face. His features were darkened now by a number of scars, only a handful of which had come from her. "I'll be out momentarily. Keep him outside."

"I-"

"Emma?"

She grimaced and stood. "Yes, Henry?"

"What did you do?"

He stood a few feet away, his mouth agape. Regina waited behind him, her eyes averted, but her lips trembling downward. Emma sheathed her blade once more and walked over, using her body to block his view of the corpse.

"He was a threat to our kingdom, kid."

"So you killed him?"

She eyed his baleful expression and sighed. "Something like that. I wasn't given a choice."

"There's always a choice," Regina responded, though she had yet to make eye contact.

Aware that her squire was watching them with curious eyes, Emma snarled, "You will never question what I do to keep our realm safe."

"Of course not."

The woman was still pouting, Emma realized. They had parted on sour terms, and Regina was letting her know that the wound was still fresh. Still, she couldn't let her wife get away with such flagrant disrespect when others were present. She reached out, grabbed Regina's wrist, and tugged her closer. She twisted the squirmed woman so Regina's back was pressed against her breasts and forced Regina to stare at the fallen man.

"If he had won, do you think he would have spared me?"

"No," Regina spat.

"Do you want me to die? I'm the only thing between you and the harsh realities of Court, Regina."

"You brought me here against my will."

"You agreed." Emma's breath was hot against Regina's ear. "You came here in exchange for your family's stability. This is all part and parcel of our agreement. You married a brute. Deal with it."

"Let me go."

"I give the orders, Regina. Me."

"Please, my lady. Let. Me. Go."

Emma roughly pushed her forward and she nearly fell to the ground. "Why are you here? I sent for Henry."

"I asked her along," Henry responded. His glare was scathing.

She had planned to give him his first crossbow, and to teach him proper technique. This morning was a rare occurrence of her having free time and she'd wanted to spend it with her son. From his terse expression and Regina's haughty stare, she determined that this wasn't likely to happen. Instead of bringing Henry to the range, she spat in the dirt and spun on her heel.

"Go home." She marched away, intent on washing this horrible morning from her skin.

"Go after her," Henry urged. "She's upset."

"How can you tell?" Regina dusted herself off.

"I know Emma. This is your chance to change her. Go!"

He was right, in a way. She might not be able to change Emma's opinion, but she could at least apologize for her impertinence. This might be her only chance to salvage their potentially gentle relationship. After commanding Henry to wait there, and to not approach the body, Regina walked as quickly as decorum would allow in the same direction Emma had disappeared.

0-0-0

Emma peeled her tunic off and tossed it to the dirt. The cold raised bumps along her skin, almost to the point of pain, but she welcomed the discomfort. She stripped down to her skivvies and stepped toward the water, stopping only at the calling of her name. Irritation bubbled in her chest as she turned, hands akimbo, and glared at the intruder.

"What?"

Regina froze at the edge of the clearing, her eyes trained on Emma's bare body. Their encounter had been in near-darkness, and she hadn't had much time to scope out her wife's toned figure – but now everything was on display in the cold afternoon air. There were muscles present on Emma's body that Regina hadn't even known existed, all finely cut and glinting with cold sweat.

"I came to apologize, my lady."

Emma hated how instantly she softened at Regina's words. She moved her hands from her hips and folded her arms over her chest. "I don't want to hear it."

Regina moved forward – she wasn't sure if she was hearing the water of the stream gushing by, or the blood thrumming dully in her ears. She'd slept with Emma out of duty, but the desire roiling in her gut now was more primal. When she was close enough to reach out and run her fingers across the blonde's stomach, she paused and brought her eyes up to Emma's.

"I am sorry, Emma."

"What are you doing?" Emma's voice shook on the first word, but she steadied herself by the end. Regina's hands were deliciously warm as they pressed against her midsection and the shiver that wracked her body was less due to the weather, and more to the drag of Regina's nails against her skin.

"You don't have to be this way when we're alone."

"What way?"

"Mean," Regina husked, edging closer. "Harsh. Uncaring."

"That's just who I am."

"I don't think so."

Emma, who had never run from anything, considered taking a step back. "Regina…"

"You care about me, no matter how much you fight it, or try to hide it. I won't begrudge your public tantrums, but now – when it's you and I alone – I expect you to control yourself."

Emma wanted to complain, but Regina eased up the scant centimeter of their height difference and pressed her lips to Emma's. Regina took Emma's wrists, unfolded Emma's arms, and settled Emma's hands on her hips. Emma's fingers locked almost immediately in place as Regina slid her tongue along Emma's lips.

Taking half-steps back, Regina guided Emma away from the moving water – she had no interest in accidentally taking an icy plunge. Emma lifted her up at the waist and carried her back toward the tree line. She slammed Regina back against a tree trunk and Regina gasped.

"Control yourself," she groused. To keep Emma in the moment, and from getting angry again, Regina kissed her softly. Lead by example, she thought, and kept her touches feather-light. Emma eased her down to the ground and Regina rewarded her by suckling on her earlobe.

"Sorry," Emma grunted. Her discomfort with this new way of doing things was apparent from the brilliant flush of her cheeks. Regina trailed a hand along her cheek.

"You're doing fine."

Emma hesitated; Regina rolled so that Emma was pinned to the ground. From her position straddling the blonde's hips, Regina felt a rush of cockiness. She'd taken on the tenacious warrior and come out on top. She reached down and grazed her fingertips over Emma's pert nipples and enjoyed the strangled moan that struggled out of Emma's clenched lips.

She leaned down and dragged her tongue along one breast, settling at the peak. Emma's chest heaved quietly. The only sounds around them were the trickling of the stream, the cry of birds overhead, and the rustling of leaves. Finally, there was a nearly silent gasp. Regina shifted to Emma's other breast and brought her hand up to block the chilly air from Emma's now moist skin.

She stayed awhile, enjoying the power she held over the blonde, and then slid her right hand along Emma's stomach. Emma trembled as she gently rubbed her forefinger over Emma's clit. She moved her mouth up Emma's chest, pausing to drag her tongue along the pulsing artery in Emma's neck. When their lips connected, Regina rubbed a little more vigorously. Despite the cold, the blonde's skin was warmer than a fire.

"Fuck me," Emma panted against her lips, but she shook her head.

"We're learning to be gentle, my dear. Once we can be gentle, then we can be rough."

Something behind Emma's eyes snapped. She grabbed Regina's shoulders and rolled them once again. Her fingers were tight and unyielding. "You please me the way I tell you to please me."

Regina first winced at the brute force of Emma's assault, and stilled for a moment - but then her eyes zeroed in on the veins beginning to surface in Emma's arms. She pulled out of Emma's grip and lapped at them until Emma's angry expression faltered.

"I'm sorry." It seemed to be Regina's new fall back, but the words worked. Emma leaned down and kissed her tenderly – so she brought her fingers back up to resume their massage. This was definitely a work in progress, Regina thought. But as her eyes hungrily roved Emma's straining body, she realized it was work she didn't mind doing.

0-0-0

Regina took Henry's hand, ignored his persistent questions about whether she'd gotten through to Emma, and tugged him along. Emma had to practice, she told him, and they couldn't interrupt anymore than they already had. His face had predictably fallen, but the promise of spending the afternoon with Regina picked his spirits back up.

They returned to the castle and she did her best to stay focused on his enthusiastic prattling. As long as he wasn't talking about prophecies, she was willing to listen and actively respond. He did like those prophecies, though, she thought with a small internal sigh.

"I've been writing a book."

"About what?"

His smile widened and he waved her closer. This was a secret project, after all. "It's about the Dark Knight and her Light Queen."

She marveled at his ability to bring the prophecy into every conversation. "Tell me more, my dear."

"Well, the Dark Knight is this really mean woman who destroys everything – like she's known everywhere as a conqueror. And then this other woman, who wants to be strong like the Knight, but maybe not as mean, catches up to the Knight."

"Let me guess. They fall in love."

His nose wrinkled. "I wasn't gonna write that. They become friends, because the Knight teaches the Queen to be strong, and the Queen teaches the Knight to be good. You can be powerful, and still just and merciful."

She pressed her hand onto his shoulder. "You had better hope your grandparents don't find it."

"Find what?"

Regina watched Henry freeze at the new voice. She'd never encountered the speaker before – he was a whippy man covered in glittering gold skin. When he smiled, she nearly blanched at the state of his teeth and shifted her gaze up to his eyes. This was no better, however, because rather than normal human eyes, the man had engorged golden irises and slit black pupils. From the quality of his garb, she determined it was safe to assume he held some high position at Court.

"Oh, nothing," Henry lied. His grip on her hand intensified.

"I don't believe we've met, dearie." The man extended his hand and she noted the claw like state of his fingernails. "Rumplestiltskin, Court wizard."

"Regina, wife."

He grabbed her hand when she offered it, kissed the back of it politely, but then refused to let go. "She traded down, I see."

"Leave her alone."

"Stay out of this, boy."

Regina felt his grip tightening, but she kept her face carefully blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You'd best find out," he jeered. "I'd hate for you to suffer the same fate as the Dark Knight's previous attachment."

A leaden weight settled in her stomach. She smiled stiffly at him and finally tugged her hand free. This was the most direct threat issued at her during her time as Emma's wife, but she was no stranger to vague comments and talk of future harm. Showing fear or apprehension only gave the speaker what he was looking for, so she actively avoided any such expression.

"It was nice to meet you." Her words were pleasant, but her eyes cold. "But really, Henry and I must resume our day's activities. I'd hate for him to fall behind."

"His tutor is waiting for him upstairs," Rumplestiltskin supplied. "It seems that young master Henry has been avoiding his lessons."

Henry grimaced. "But-"

"Go."

Regina reluctantly released his hand and watched him tramp away. Once alone with Rumplestiltskin, she tilted her head in parting. "Until we meet again."

"Remember what I said," he called, and then cackled. "It may save your life someday."

She walked slowly out of sight, and then broke into a quick jog until she was safely in her quarters. Leaning against the heavy door, she took several deep breaths and waited for her heart to stop thrumming. Something about that man wasn't right – especially if Henry was frightened. The idea that she could go from feeling so powerful with Emma to utterly defenseless in the course of an hour rattled her.

Things were easier when all she had to worry about was the trip into town and her mother's inevitable disappointment. Emma was right, she realized. The blonde was indeed her only protection from how ruthless her new life had the potential of being. The thought made her uncomfortable and she resolved to learn how to protect herself.

0-0-0

Emma shoved the drunken man out of her way, her temper already boiling. What her mother had said earlier was proving true – though whether Snow had encouraged the rumors, or merely heard them, Emma wasn't sure. She was sick of it, though, and sick of how soft she could feel under Regina's influence. Three men, all inebriated and feeling larger, had drawn her honor into question. She'd invited them to face her on the practice fields in the morning, but she was almost certain none would show up. They would gossip about her, and spread lies, but when it came down to it, she still evoked the proper fear in most men.

At the rate gossip travelled, however, this wouldn't be the case for long. She grabbed the lapels of the nearest man and lifted him out of his seat. His face paled as she slapped him across the cheek – all she needed, she decided, was a very public display of how hard she still was.

"I don't like the way you were looking at me."

"I weren't looking nowhere," the man retorted. He was scared of her, but no man wanted an unnecessary, unprovoked beating.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes."

"And you're saying I'm lying?"

"Well, not really. No." He stumbled over his words, his brain churning for the right answer in a muddled haze of alcohol. "Just disagreeing?"

She cocked her fist back and punched him across the cheek. A gash under his eye splurted open and coated her knuckles with blood. His head lolled back and when it lifted again to face her, his eyes were angry. An expletive dropped from his lips, but he got no further in his slur because she tackled him to the ground and unleashed a torrent of blows all over his unguarded skin.

The sting of a blade across her arm drew her attention to one of the man's mates. The brave fellow was brandishing his sword, but she could see his hand trembling. In the instant she took to lunge forward, all hell broke loose in the bar. She knocked the man back and ducked a chair that swung directly past her head. It connected with a bar wench's back, and soon every person was fighting any other person that came too close. In the middle of it all, Emma grinned.

0-0-0

Regina woke to the sound of her door creaking open. For a moment, she worried that Rumplestiltskin was making good on his threat, but then she spotted the bobbing blonde head that she could easily identify as Emma's. She sat up and pushed the covers back. The moonlight hid most of Emma's wounds, but illuminated the drying blood on her arm.

"What happened?"

Emma didn't respond. She tugged her boots off, wincing as her arm extended too far, and began fumbling with her breeches. Dissatisfied with this non-response, Regina padded over and grabbed Emma's chin. She made Emma look at her and shook her head slowly.

"You will tell me what happened."

The desire for dominance that usually flared in Emma's belly at signs of Regina's perceived insubordination was oddly lacking. Emma shrugged. "Got in a fight. Nothing new."

"You're bleeding."

"As I said, nothing new."

Regina frowned. "You're not getting into my bed covered in blood."

"Then clean me up, wife."

Though Regina had very little interest in caked on blood, she rolled her eyes, went to the hallway, and summoned the nearest servant. He brought her a bucket of warm water, a rag, and a fine needle already threaded with catgut. When she returned to the inner chamber, Emma was still seated and had barely moved an inch.

"I will keep us safe," Emma promised as Regina began mopping up her wounds. She flinched as Regina's quick stitches pulled the wound on her arm closed. "No matter what."

"You're an idiot," Regina grumbled.

"This was necessary."

"I'm sure you thought it was."

Emma sat still and let Regina wipe down her face. The flecks of other people's blood clung to the rag and stained the once clean water in the bucket. Regina wondered if this is how it would always be: her finding a way past the warrior exterior, to see the real woman underneath.


	4. Chapter 4

Though Snow hated meeting with the lords and ladies of her Court, she was even more repulsed by treating with other monarchs. The forced politeness of all parties involved was sickening – she felt no need to be kind, especially when she stood to gain nothing from the practice. Her father had called her egocentric. He now lived in the dungeons with nobody but the rats to keep him company. What he saw as self-absorption, she knew to be self-awareness and a protective instinct.

So as she sat with Midas, she forced a smile on her face but she put no effort into making it appear genuine. He hardly noticed her, anyway, she thought. Whenever they had these dreadful meetings, the Southern King kept his attention focused solely on her Consort. She was aware of their prior history, but entirely uninterested in the continuance of their loathing. Hatred was powerful, and they were both squandering the intense emotion.

"Get to the point." She snapped her fingers and drew Midas's eyes to her. "You've been rambling about nothing for thirty minutes."

"It's not nothing," Midas riposted. He reached for his goblet of mead and huffed. These meetings were pointless, he thought. The bitch-Queen never listened to anything he said, so this was entirely for show. Oh, look at the mighty Kings and Queens, and how well they get along. He snorted. It was a farce and those that believed there was nothing but good feelings between the kingdoms were fools.

"You're worried about the rebellions along the eastern woods." Snow flapped her hand. "Are not your armies strong enough?"

"They fight like phantoms." He swallowed the remaining sweet juice and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "They appear, strike, and meld back into the trees. We can't catch them – and when we do capture one in battle, he kills himself faster than we can tie him up."

"Certainly sounds as if you have a problem." Snow glanced at her Consort, who smirked back at her. He toyed with his fork, one hand curled around the handle, the fingers of his other twanging the tines.

"Why are you here?" David leaned forward. "You show up unannounced, and-"

"My daughter," Midas cut in. "I will have her back."

Snow stood slowly and walked to the window at the far edge of the room. She rested her palm against the cold stone and stared down at the peasants milling about the courtyard. Most were making deliveries, but some she knew to be those who wanted nothing more than to kill her daughter and to usurp the position of Dark Knight. They could try, Snow thought with a surge of pride, but Emma was damn near invincible. It almost made having the blonde as a daughter bearable.

"Well?" Midas stood as well, knocking his chair back. "Will you accede to my request?"

"No."

David chuckled as the older man snarled. He grabbed Midas by the elbow as the man tried to stalk forward, "Rest easy, Midas."

"Your Highness," Midas spat. He hadn't traveled three days by rickety carriage to be talked down to by the Queen's man-whore.

"Oh, I'm just her Consort," David corrected. "I have no title. But that's an easy mistake to make. In the interest of maintaining our working relationship, perhaps you ought to refrain from making another."

Midas yanked his arm free and sat once more. "I demand the return of my daughter."

"She's under my protection." Snow turned away from the window. "She will remain there until our deal is complete."

"Nobody could keep up with your absurd rate of interest."

She shrugged. "You told us at the time of your loan that you had a magic touch – that all your deals were golden. You handed your daughter over in good faith to our care. The day you pay your debt is the day you may have her back."

"She is mine!"

"No."

Snow rarely raised her voice, and made no exception now. She felt that those that screeched and hooted and hollered had lost control of the situation. Ever striving to maintain complete dominance, she kept her voice low and even – he could squall like a toddler, but she would remain an adult. Her piercing gaze landed squarely on him, and the lines cut by worry into his face deepened.

"Yes."

"Tell me, Midas, why do you want her back now? What could you possibly gain from her that will assist you in defeating your little rebellion?"

"She is to wed Shan Yu, in exchange for the use of his forces in this matter."

"Ah." Snow laughed, the harsh noise bouncing off the high ceilings of the hall. "Well, then I'm afraid you're completely out of luck."

"Why?"

"She's already married."

"What?"

"To a knight of my realm, in fact." Snow glided to his side and bent low so their noses were almost touching. "You have no claim."

"Then give them both to me. If he can't put down the rebellion, then I'll have him beheaded."

"You'll have to take that up with our Knight. If she's willing to part with her forces, we would, of course, not stop her from sending you aide."

"Send her in," Midas grunted.

Snow beamed, her sinister air seemingly dissipating. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"I'm not seeing it anyway. One way or another, I will leave here today with my daughter at my side."

"We'll see."

David rose and crossed to the door. He motioned for the nearest servant and murmured the orders into the man's ear. The servant watched Midas warily and nodded when David patted him warmly on the shoulder. David turned back to Midas and nodded curtly, "She'll be here shortly, you impatient coot."

Midas growled, but knew better than to attack. In the days of his youth, he'd been renowned for his skill with a broadsword. Now, however, he was best known for his temper and the size of his belly. David was still young and spry, and he had no hopes of besting the Consort in direct combat. He folded his arms over his sizeable stomach and waited.

0-0-0

Emma watched Regina paging through a book and struggled with the feelings tumbling through her chest. There was a sort of warm heat that resided over her heart; it had appeared sometime after the wedding, and had continued without cessation. Her stomach trembled when Regina spoke, and she found herself thinking of the other woman often. Had she other parentage, she might think she were in love.

Still, the fact remained that she was the daughter of hate. She shouldn't, according to the Court Wizard, be able to feel much more than anger. Her heart was a rock, she reminded herself. She'd heard it described as a black hole, as well, and the number of times the word sociopath had been flung at her in a heated moment was innumerable.

When Regina's face lit up at the discovery of a passage, Emma smiled. The expression startled her and she forced her lips back down into a frown. Regina was there for Henry, she reminded herself. Any passing passion between them was an additional benefit – not something to be expected. She fisted her hands and jammed them in her pockets.

"Stop skulking."

Emma's eyebrows crept up. "Hm?"

"I see you lurking over there," Regina clarified. "Come join me."

Sighing, Emma slouched over and eased into the chair next to Regina's. She peered over Regina's shoulder and wrinkled her nose. "I didn't know the library had poetry."

"Your librarian has been very helpful." Regina ran her finger down the page. "She seemed delighted that someone shared her interest in the classics."

"You should be careful. You don't know who you can trust."

"You seem to think that nobody is to be trusted."

"It's true, isn't it?" Emma leaned back in her chair. "Everyone here is out to get more than they have."

"And yourself?"

"I just don't want to die."

Regina watched her wife through her eyelashes, unsure of what to make of the sudden admission. If she were gullible, she might think Emma was beginning to trust her. The idea was preposterous, though. They may have had an intense physical connection, but Emma was nearly as guarded as she was.

"You appear quite lively."

Emma slumped down. "All I'm saying is that you ought to be wary of trusting just anyone."

"I trusted you, didn't I?"

"That's not really a counter argument."

"Has something happened? You're not usually so – morose." Regina closed the book and focused more intently on Emma's face.

"Just a lot going on upstairs."

"I can understand why this is only now troubling you."

Emma fought the smile that tugged at her lips. Even when Regina was insulting her, she was happy. The feeling was unsettling. "Are you saying I never think?"

"I would never say that."

"But you're thinking it loud and clear."

"You've thought so hard you can actually hear the machinations of others. I'm impressed."

"Pretty much." Emma tentatively put her chin on Regina's shoulder. "Do you write poetry?"

"I would hardly say what I've written is poetry."

"Tell me one."

"First your son demands stories, and now you poetry. Do I look like a bard?"

"A little, maybe."

"My poetry is for my eyes only."

"That's no fun," Emma sighed. "You're mine, and what you write is yours, so it should be mine, too, right?"

"Your mastery of logic is astounding."

"Yeah, isn't it?"

Regina wanted to be at ease with this friendly version of her wife, but she couldn't help but wait for the brutal façade to slip back into place. But Emma moved quickly to straddle her legs – the blonde's fingers trailed under her chin and pulled her closer. She shifted her gaze between Emma's eyes and relished in the puff of Emma's warm breath on her skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Am I doing it right?" Emma's thumb moved slowly over her chin.

"Yes…" Regina felt breathless as she waited for Emma to close the distance. Emma's other hand slid along her neck and kept her locked in place.

"Good," Emma whispered. She inched closer and brushed her lips over Regina's as delicately as possible. Regina submitted to her touch with a small murmur of pleasure. Regina lifted her hands slowly and gripped Emma's hips.

The quiet of the moment was shattered when a servant burst into the library. Emma flinched back, but Regina left her hands in place. Her heart was thudding unevenly – Emma had initiated something soft and sweet, she thought. It ran through her mind over and over again. She could still feel the blonde's lips on hers, and found that she missed the contact already.

"Lady Knight," the servant panted. "I've been looking all over for you. Your presence is requested in the war room."

Emma eased off Regina's lap, cast a final look at her wife, and followed the servant away. Regina let her fingers come up to rest against her mouth. She forced herself to pick the book of poetry up once again; she wouldn't be reading it, but it was something for her hands to do while her brain was distracting.

"She's different with you."

Regina's eyes flicked from the words to the stocky brunette across from her. "Hm?"

"The Dark Knight."

If the woman hadn't been so helpful earlier, Regina would have dismissed her. "I suppose so."

"My husband is a little like that," the girl offered. "The worse they are in public, though, the softer they can be in private."

"Your husband?"

"Rumplestiltskin."

Regina kept her face blank, but inwardly she blanched. The man hadn't quite been welcoming to her, and her skin still crept at the thought of his grin. "I should go."

The other woman's expression trembled. "Please, if you'd like to come back – I'm here all day."

Regina nodded, but couldn't make eye contact. "I'll see what my schedule allows."

"I'm Belle."

"Good bye, Belle," Regina called, fully intent on never returning – no matter how tempting the books.

0-0-0

Emma settled her armor before walking through the large double doors. David had requested she come looking as official as possible – which meant she was to be their show pony for the afternoon. Whomsoever their guest was, he needed to be blown away by the power and might of the White Kingdom.

As she stepped through the door and saw the fuming King sitting at the table, while Snow loitered nearby, confusion rose in her chest. Midas was not an unknown figure around their kingdom. He was aware of Snow's position and there was no reason to intimidate him with her full armor. Despite her uncertainty, she kept her face emotionless and came to a halt in front of her parents. She snapped a sharp salute and waited for their permission to speak.

"Knight, are you aware of one in your ranks – Sir Fredrick?"

"I am."

Snow glided toward her and halted several feet away, her hands akimbo. "And his wife?"

"Lady Kathryn," Emma responded. Suddenly Midas's presence made more sense. He was there about his daughter, but Emma doubted he'd repaid his debt.

"Would you be opposed to sending Sir Fredrick to King Midas's aid?"

The implicit order was that Emma say no. She could read her mother well enough, and there was something about Snow's stance that told Emma that disobedience would be harshly punished later. Yet, this could be a chance to slap Snow for the murder of the man in the practice yard. She could blatantly disobey and deal with the ramifications later.

The only thing stopping her was the memory of Regina gazing at her. If something were to happen to her, there was no telling what would eventually befall Regina. Henry, too, would be at risk, so she gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"He's an essential part of my army. I'm afraid I couldn't part with him."

"You're certain?"

Emma nodded with greater purpose. "Yes, my Queen. I cannot part with him."

Snow turned to Midas and spread her arms. "As Fredrick is under her command, I can't allow you to take him, or his wife from the country."

"She's my daughter."

"She's the wife of my Dark Knight's favored knight, which preempts your claim." Snow turned to David and waited for him to offer his arm. "I believe our business here is done."

"Don't turn your back on me." Midas leapt up, but Emma blocked him. He slammed his fist against her breastplate, so she shoved him roughly back and reached for her sword.

"Leave him," Snow called over her shoulder.

Emma felt like a dog as she backed down. She bristled at Midas, but allowed him to pace away without drawing his blood. As Snow called for her to follow, she held back on her frustrated growl and jogged down the hallway.

"Yes?"

"You hesitated."

Emma closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "I was trying to figure out what you wanted me to say. You could have warned me in advance."

"My apologies for assuming you were smarter than an imbecile." Snow's grip on David's elbow tightened. "My mistake."

"Was my answer incorrect?"

"No."

"He didn't notice anything."

"You hesitated."

"I did."

"Because of that woman."

"Kathryn?"

"Regina."

Emma grimaced. "My wife has nothing to do with-"

"She made your mind up, didn't she?" Snow's voice went soft, which set Emma on edge.

"Does it matter, if I came to the right conclusion?"

"It matters."

There were times when Emma could almost see something pleasant flickering in Snow's gaze, but now there was nothing. Snow's eyes were tiny and hard, and Emma ducked her head.

"Yes."

"You're soft, daughter." Snow examined her closely. "And soft is so much easier to kill."

Emma watched her parents trail away and resisted the urge to scream. Temper tantrums had littered her childhood, but she'd learned that they got her nothing but a sore throat. She stood in the hallway and clenched her hand into a fist.

0-0-0

Regina held her hand out to the large black steed and he whuffed against her palm. Mindful of her prior encounter, she remained calm and tried to send out positive thoughts. It was easier this time, especially with the feel of Emma still on her lips. She pressed her hand to his forehead and smiled softly.

"You look much happier today."

The sudden intrusion didn't startle her. She barely glanced at Daniel as she continued moving closer to her mount. He wasn't as nervous now that she was relaxed around him. She fished a brush out of a pail and set about grooming his haunches.

"Good afternoon."

Daniel leaned against the stall. "You'll have him tamed in no time."

"I would hope so."

"Not very talkative, are you?"

"I was recently told I shouldn't trust just anyone."

Regina ran her hand down Rocinante's flank. He was a large animal, and could easily trample her, but she felt at ease with him. She tossed the brush toward the bucket, but it missed and hit the ground. Daniel bent and picked it up for her.

"It's good advice, especially around here."

"Should I trust you?"

"I think so." Daniel laughed. "I'm just a humble stable boy. Who would I tell your secrets to? The horses?"

"You might turn Rocinante against me."

"Nah, he's a good judge of character."

"How do you figure?"

"He likes you."

Regina rolled her eyes and finally turned her attention fully to Daniel. He grinned at her, and the warmth of the expression nearly made her cry. It really had been too long since she'd had someone she could count on, without having to worry about consequences, or anger.

"Where are you from?"

"A few miles south, there's a village between two rivers. I came here for the opportunity to support my family after my father broke his leg."

"How long have you been here?"

"Three years, or so." He followed her out of the stall. "You do get used to it."

"I don't see how," Regina responded slowly. "How can anyone be happy here?"

"Easy." He took her hand and pressed it to her breast. "You just have to remember that you are only in control of yourself. We do what we must, for whatever reason, but we only need ourselves in order to be happy."

"And if I don't think I can do that?"

"You can," he assured her. "It just takes some practice listening to your heart. You ever done that?"

"Hm."

"I'll take that as a no."

"I still don't know if I ought to trust you."

"What does your heart tell you?"

"I don't know."

He let go of her wrist and beamed. "That's the problem. People listen to their heads, instead of what really matters."

"My heart."

"Exactly!"

"My heart has led me to nothing but hardship."

"Your head led you here, and now you can make the best of it, can't you?"

She kicked her foot through the hay and tried not to blush when she looked at him. "I don't-"

"I believe you can."

"I should get back to the castle."

He caught her wrist once more before she could flee. "I'm always out here, if you need someone to talk to. I promise the horses and I will never tattle, nor judge."

She met his gaze and then hurried away without another word.

0-0-0

Emma watched the stable boy touching her wife and quelled her anger. A simple touch meant nothing, she thought. But there was fondness in his gaze, and that incensed her. Half of her wanted to march over and kill him. The other half, though, saw the relief in Regina's posture. The boy was her friend, Emma determined. Even if they were romantically inclined, she'd only garner Regina's spite if she harmed him.

She kicked her foot against the ground.

"Are you going to hurt him?" Henry tugged on her arm.

"Who?"

"That man."

"No."

Henry's face lit up in a brilliant smile. "See, you can be a good guy."

"It's not about being good, Henry."

"Then what is it?"

"Killing him would be wasteful. We'd never be able to find such a well trained stable boy on short notice."

"You know it'd upset Regina."

"Would it?" Emma feigned ignorance. "I hadn't even considered it."

He was too perceptive, though, and she too poor of an actor. "You love her."

"I don't love, kid."

"Do you love me?"

She hesitated. "I don't want you to get more hurt than is necessary."

His face drooped, but his eyes remained hopeful. "You'll love me when she melts your heart. I just know it."

She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. She really was going soft, she determined. "Kid… the prophecy – it's just –"

"It's real."

"It's crazy."

"Are you calling me crazy?"

"No."

He glanced back toward the stable. "She's changing you, and it's good, Emma."

For the first time in many years, she wished he'd call her mother. The sudden desire blindsided her and she cleared her throat. "It's not good. I need to be strong to keep you safe, and love is weakness."

"Love is strength," he corrected. "It's even stronger than your muscles, I promise. Just let yourself feel it."

"I can't." She frowned at him. It was impossible. She couldn't love – not when she was the product of hate. Rather than try to impress this upon him, she turned away and walked toward the stable. She wouldn't do anything to the boy, but she'd make sure he understood his boundaries.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma stomped into the stable, a fierce scowl darkening her features. She wasn't going to hurt him, she reminded herself, but he had to be taught a lesson. It was entirely improper for him to be so close to her wife. What if someone saw them together? Emma's hands curled into tight fists. She spotted him by a dun colored mare and stalked to his side.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Grooming this horse." He had an easy smile that irritated Emma endlessly. She jabbed her finger against his shoulder.

"Talking to my wife."

"Your wife is a horse?" He lifted his brush from the mare's flank. "I'm sorry. My mistake. Would you like the honors?"

She knocked his hand away and the brush fell to the dirt. She grabbed his shirt, lifted him onto his toes, and leaned in close. "My wife, Regina. What do you think you're doing?"

"I like her," he responded, twisting his face to the side. "She's nice. I'm nice. So we're nice to each other."

"She's in a dangerous position already, boy." Emma thrust him back. He stumbled a few steps and then caught his balance. "If people begin to gossip about you, it weakens my ability to protect her."

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked, bending down to rescue his brush. "That she'll realize what a monster you really are? That she'll love and trust me more than you?"

Emma flushed, but maintained control over her voice. "She can love and trust whomever she wants."

"If she loves and trusts me, and I'm not saying she does, then will you let us see each other?"

"No!" She fought to keep her hands still at her side.

"Then I don't see what you're saying."

"I don't care if she doesn't love me," Emma lied. "I care that it will look like my wife is stepping out on me. My mother will seize any opportunity to rid her Court of the woman she thinks is compromising my ability to lead."

"You think Queen Snow would do such a thing to her own daughter?"

"I'm daughter in title only," she snapped. "She wouldn't even blink. Your friendliness towards my wife will only lead to her death. And, knowing my mother, it won't be quick or painless. So do Regina a favor – leave her alone."

"I won't seek her out," he promised. "But should she come to me-"

Emma's fist drew back and flew against his nose. He had time for a strangled groan before he collapsed to the ground. Blood trickled down his lip as Emma shook her fist out. She'd hit him too hard, she knew that, but he was so irritating. No type of love was worth dying for, and she'd rather Regina were a bit unhappy than dead.

"I thought you weren't going to hurt him." Henry's hurt voice drew her attention to the entrance to the barn. "Did you kill him?"

"One punch won't kill him," she stated gruffly. "He'll have a headache, and maybe a broken nose, but he'll live."

Henry frowned. "You didn't have to hit him."

"He made me angry."

"Still."

She shifted her gaze down to her hands. They were still trembling with adrenaline and anger. Perhaps he was right. Violence was her default reaction to any stimulus, and it had worked so far – but what had it gained her? She had a son who treated her like a monster, parents who barely cared about her existence, and gallons of blood weighing her down.

"I can't change that it happened, kid."

"Are you sorry?"

"No." She'd never be sorry for protecting what was hers. Rather than explain that, she stood dumbly as he turned and ran toward the castle.

She turned back to Daniel and knelt beside him. A quick press of her fingers to his throat confirmed that his heart was still pounding. She ripped part of his tunic, eased him up from the ground, and mopped the blood from his face. While he was still out, she felt his nose – it wasn't as messy as she feared, so she realigned it as gingerly as she could. It would hurt when he woke, but it ought to heal somewhat straight. She took the brush from his hand.

The horse whickered as she continued the job he had been doing prior to her interruption. The repetitive motion gave her a chance to completely calm down. Her actions had been hasty and driven by emotional response rather than logic. Next time she would try to be rational, she decided. She patted the mare's neck and led it back to its stall. On her way out, she tucked a gold coin in Daniel's trouser pocket.

Regina might love him, she thought as she stepped over his legs. She knew Henry's prophecy chatter was inane and untrue, but the thought of Regina loving anyone else was painful somehow. She couldn't imagine Regina pressed nakedly against anyone else. She was going to try harder, she resolved, to make Regina stay with her.

0-0-0

Regina sat in front of the mirror and ran a brush through her hair. She wasn't sure what to make of Daniel's insistent offer of friendship. If they had met before her marriage, she would have been quite charmed by his kindness. Now, though, there was more than her own desire at play. She couldn't imagine what would happen if her temperamental wife were to find out about her conversations with Daniel. The poor boy would be killed, she feared.

She set the brush aside and sighed. There were times when she missed the simplicity of her life. It was physically strenuous at times, and she didn't have the lovely dresses she had now, but she had her family around her. The most difficult decision she had to make was whether she would go straight home from town, or linger around the market place. The only consequence was her mother's ire.

Now the stakes were much greater. She had a royal lifestyle, and with it came a royal death sentence. Should she make a mistake, she could potentially lose her life. Was Emma worth it? She stared at her reflection. She had a beautiful green dress on – a similar hue to Emma's eyes – and it had been tailored to fit her. It clung to her curves, and puffed out around her waist. She felt like a princess in it. It was just a material thing, albeit something she'd used to dream about. She might have been better off if she had never run to Henry's aid.

"Regina!" He barreled into her quarters without knocking and scrambled over to her side. "You have to work harder."

"At what?"

"Changing Emma." He stared up at her with wide eyes. "She's not changing enough."

"What do you mean?"

"She hurt Daniel."

Regina felt instantly ill. She pushed him away and stood. "When? I saw him not but an hour ago."

"I just saw it." He moved closer again, his fingers cloying at her sleeve. "She said that he ought to leave you alone, and he refused, so she punched him! He fell over and didn't move again. Emma said he wasn't dead, but I don't know."

"I'm sure she had her reasons." Regina couldn't think of any justifiable reason – unless Emma wanted her perpetually alone. She'd seen the technique before. Her mother, in fact, had scared away all of her father's friends so that the man had been solely reliant upon her for everything. She hadn't expected such conduct from Emma, but it wasn't surprising.

"I don't think so. I think you've got her close to being good. So she's scared and being meaner than before."

"Then perhaps I ought not push her further," Regina reasoned.

"You're so close," he begged. "You can't give up on her."

"I'm not giving up on her. I'm protecting us, Henry."

"She says that, too, right before she does something really bad." He pouted and crawled onto her bed. He flopped back, folded his hands over his belly, and watched her upside down. "Does that mean you're going to do something bad, too?"

"I just don't want to get hurt."

"So you're going to let her get away with hurting Daniel?"

"You misunderstand the power structure, Henry. She can do as she pleases."

"You don't understand! I'm the Prince, and she's just the Knight. I rank higher, and I'm ordering you to change her. You have to listen to me."

She gritted her teeth and smiled at him. "I'll do as you wish, my Prince."

All at once his face crumbled. "I didn't mean it like that. You don't have to…"

"Is there anything else my Prince wishes?"

"Stop."

"You can't just turn power on and off, Henry. You have it, so you have a duty to use it responsibly."

His voice cracked miserably. "I just want my mom, and you and me, to be safe and happy. So you have to melt her heart."

"You're asking for too much."

"I-" His voice cut off as the door swung open and the subject of their conversation stalked in.

0-0-0

After leaving the stables, Emma headed back toward the castle. She had a number of things to take care of, not the least of which was talking to Regina. That conversation could wait, however, because first she wanted to find Rumplestiltskin. He was usually skulking around the dungeons somewhere, doing whatever it was Court Wizards did to prisoners, so she took the nearest stairwell down. Every guard she passed ducked his head respectfully, but she ignored them.

"Rumplestiltskin!"

She paced the length of the dungeon. Several men and women came to the bars, and a few reached for her as she passed. One who got too close to touching her received a harsh slap on the wrist and a firm glare. Some of them, Emma knew, had done next to nothing wrong – save for thinking less than stellar things about the crown. Snow would never abide by any sort of dissent, and so different minded people often ended up down in the dungeons, where the sun was only visible for an hour a day, and rats got first dibs on all the food.

"You called?"

The man exploded into existence in front of her. Only years of training kept her from leaping a foot in the air. The smoke cleared and he leered at her, so she placed her hands on her hips and glared back at him. Think big, she thought to herself. The man clearly had no respect for Snow, and so had no respect for her, but she was just important enough at Court to get things from him when she needed to.

"I need a favor."

"Favors are costly."

She wanted to grab his robes and shake him – but she'd just determined that violence was not the proper way to deal with her problems. Besides, she thought, he'd enjoy her loss of control too much. He was a manipulative fellow and she had to maintain control to get anything out of him.

"Name your price."

His lips quirked up into a smirk. "Name your favor."

It always went this way, she moaned silently. He was so hesitant to name a price because he didn't know exactly how much someone was willing to pay. Better to let the client overbid, than to let him set a fair price.

"Two protective charms," she gritted out. As an afterthought, she added, "And a bouquet of flowers."

"Charms are hard to come by," he wheedled, intent on driving the price higher.

She settled her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Which is why I came to you. If you can't do it, perhaps we need a new Court Wizard."

He snorted, aware that his game wasn't quite on par for Emma's course. "Very well. I can get them. How much protection are you seeking?"

"I need to be able to find the wearer, first of all. But I'd also like for the charms to detect poisons in food, and for the wearer to be able to send me a signal if there's trouble."

"Collars," he giggled. "You're looking for collars."

"No."

"Would you like me to bring you a leash as well?"

"It's for safety," she spat. "Can you do it?"

He slunk through the dungeon without another word, and she followed him. When he came to a stop in front of a thick wooden door, she cocked an eyebrow.

"If I do this for you, you must get me behind this door." She reached for the handle but he snorted. "You think I haven't tried that?"

"What's behind it?"

"None of your business. Something important to me."

"If the Queen has restricted your access, then perhaps it's for good reason."

"Don't meddle in my affairs, dearie." All at once he was too close to her, his hand wrapped around the collar of her shirt and his breath hot against her cheeks. "Get me behind that door, and you'll have your charms."

"I can't. You know better than most how little the Queen values my opinion on all matters, save those of war."

"I hear that her confidence is fading even further." His cackle made her want to throttle him, but she kept her hands at her side.

"So you know that it is not within my power to get you inside."

He released her shirt and snapped his fingers. Two necklaces appeared in his palm. Each was simple in design – a dangling silver bead hanging from a thin leather thong. She reached for them, but he held them out of reach.

"What are you willing to pay?"

"I'll ask about your damn door."

This response widened his smirk. "You won't like the result, I'm afraid."

"It's what you wanted."

"True." He placed the necklaces into her waiting palm. When his hand was empty, he waggled his fingers and a bundle of bright red roses popped into his grip. She took those from him without waiting for him to make a demand.

"These are free," she demanded, "for the pain of suffering of dealing with you."

0-0-0

She opened the door to Regina's chambers, a smile on her lips. The expression expired quickly when she spotted her son's dark demeanor and Regina's blank face. She hesitated in the doorway but stepped inside because at the end of the day, she belonged there and neither her son nor Regina could keep her away.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Henry rolled onto his stomach. "What're those?"

Emma thrust the flowers into Regina's arms. "These are for you."

Henry beamed. "That's very loving of you."

"Kid…"

"No, he's right. They're lovely." Regina sniffed them once and then tossed them aside. "Why are you here?"

The hostility caught Emma off guard. She frowned. "To see you."

"I see."

"Why's he here?"

"Because we were having a conversation."

"About?"

"Nothing," Henry interrupted.

Emma reached into her pockets. "It's good you're both here. I got you something."

Henry accepted the necklace quickly, but didn't put it on. He held the thing to the light and stared at it as if it was going to bite him. "What's it do?"

"It'll keep you safe. If you need me, all you have to do is ask for me. It'll guide me to your side."

"Are we in danger?" Henry looked a bit too excited by the prospect.

"Not yet. But I'm anticipating it and hoping to save us the tragedy."

Regina refused to pick hers up. "And if I refuse?"

Emma wanted to growl out a gruff response, but her earlier thoughts stayed her tongue. "Then you will be without protection."

"You won't force me?"

"I won't."

Regina picked the necklace up and fastened it around her neck. In a few seconds it was tucked beneath her garb and Emma felt more at ease. Henry waited until Regina did it first and then followed suit. He left it brazenly on display, but Emma didn't comment. It would be better to hide it, but he wasn't the source of her concern. Snow would protect him with her dying breath. Regina, however, would need as much assistance as possible.

"Is that all you needed?"

"Well…"

"Henry tells me you decimated the stable boy."

Emma's gaze darted to the boy, but promptly returned to Regina's blasé expression. "Decimated is a strong word. I punched him, yes."

"Do you feel better now?"

Emma shrugged. "I did what I had to at the time."

"Daniel wouldn't hurt a fly. He was no threat to you."

"He was a threat to you."

"Oh, I'm sure." Regina turned back to her mirror and fluffed her hair. "You know where the door is."

"You're angry."

"And you're particularly observant tonight."

"Regina…" Henry pled.

"Both of you need to leave." Regina's throat clenched at the sight of Emma's crestfallen face. Still, it had to be said. She was going to establish boundaries, and they would be respected. This was her home now, and she wasn't going to be pushed around by either Prince or Knight.

Emma scowled, but turned to leave as requested. "Until later, wife."

Regina tensed, expecting more than that, but the blonde stomped away. Henry hugged her tightly, his arms straining to encompass her middle, and then he too left her to her thoughts. The necklace weighed heavily against her neck and chest.

0-0-0

Emma entered her bedroom and slammed her fist against the stone wall. Her throbbing knuckles helped clear her mind, which was stewing continuously on recent events. Regina didn't care, she thought darkly, that her violence had been to keep Regina safe. All the woman cared about was the sanctity of that pretty boy's face.

It was awful and true, then, that Regina had passed over Emma's offering of companionship and had instead chosen that stable boy. She wouldn't kill him, as she didn't want more of Regina's wrath to descend upon her – but damn if it didn't smart, she thought. Out done by a peasant. He couldn't give her nice things, though, or keep her safe. Indeed, he seemed intent on putting her in harm's way.

"Emma?"

Her head lifted slowly. Her eyes fell upon the woman who raised her and a small, sad smile worked its way onto her lips. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I hope you don't mind that I'm early."

"Is Red here as well?"

"In the kitchens," the older woman rolled her eyes, "following after a servant with the largest puppy-dog eyes you'd ever see."

Emma held her smarting hand to her chest. "Sorry you had to see that, Gram."

"I was going to ask how things were going, but I can see the answer is not well."

"Well, things have been better." Emma felt a little sheepish. Gram had raised her to survive – and had done her best to curb Emma's temper tantrums. So it was mildly embarrassing to lose her temper in such a way in front of the woman.

"Is your wife giving you problems?"

"Does everybody know about Regina?"

Gram stepped closer and pulled Emma into a loose hug. After a moment, Emma set her head on the woman's shoulder. "It's all the townspeople gossip about."

"Oh good." Emma's lips curled back in a snarl. "And I suppose they're all saying how she's weakening me – and how easy it'll be to kill me and take my place."

Gram rubbed her back. "I haven't heard that."

"Word will spread," Emma huffed. "I've already had to beat back a number of would be challengers."

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

"They'll keep coming."

"Is it true? Is she a making you a liability?"

"No." Emma sighed and drew back. "Yes? No more so than you, Red, and Henry."

"You sound confused."

"Henry says she's fated to melt my heart."

"What a sweet, misguided boy." Gram chuckled and pushed a strand of Emma's hair behind her ear. "But at least he has hope, child. He won't turn out like your mother."

"He won't turn out like me," Emma corrected. "Which is all I can hope for."

"When do I get to meet her?"

"I don't know. She's not very happy with me at the moment." At Gram's terse look, Emma threw her hands up. "I punched a man she's been talking to. I lost my temper."

"I'm not here to judge you, Emma. You ought to know that by now."

Emma pulled away and crossed to her window. She leaned against the sill. "And yet somehow you always find a way to push me back onto the right path."

"What are you going to do?" Gram followed, her floor length skirt swishing behind her. She dressed like a conservative grandmother, but Emma knew it to be a sham. The elderly woman was tough as nails, especially after spending years chasing after Emma.

"I don't know. She thinks I'm a brute, which I am. But that's nothing new, right?"

"Have you considered not being a brute?"

"I have to be," Emma retorted. "It's who I am. It's all that I am."

"Who you are now is not a cap on your possibilities. You can grow, child. Had you forgotten, or has this castle truly killed your spirit?"

Emma shrugged. "Are you suggesting I step out of my position?"

"I'm suggesting you discover who you were truly meant to be. Don't bend to pressure, Emma. Snow may be your Queen, but she isn't your mother and she isn't your god. Your ability to fight isn't predicated upon your ability to be cruel."

Emma slouched. "I don't think I can be kind."

"You have the potential." Gram set a hand against her shoulder. "What you do with it is your choice."


	6. Chapter 6

"Our deal is off," he said. His voice was smooth and contained no emotion whatsoever. His small, bleak eyes stared Midas down and his beefy hand toyed with the golden goblet before him.

Midas gazed back and drummed his fingers on the table top. "Then perhaps we can renegotiate."

"I don't compromise."

"This isn't a compromise. This is an adjustment." Midas leaned forward. "They refuse to return my daughter to me. That isn't to say that you cannot have her. We simply must take her back by force."

Shan Yu cocked an eyebrow. He lifted the goblet to his lips, took a long, deep sip, and then frowned. "You ask for my men with no promise of payment. What if they kill her?"

"They won't kill her," Midas promised. "Their Knight has gone soft. There will be no heedless killing in their kingdom."

"How many men strong are their forces?"

"Two thousand, at the most." Midas watched Shan Yu's eyes darken. The expression was almost lustful, though he knew the man hungered only for battle and cared little for carnal pleasures. The life he was sending his daughter to would not be easy, but his agreement with Shan Yu was more important than her wellbeing.

"My men could do it."

"Fantastic. We'll talk strategy-"

"Could, Midas. Not will," Shan Yu interrupted.

"But-"

"Unlike you, I investigate my potential investments." Shan Yu stood, his behemoth-like form hulking over Midas. "I'll give you my answer in one week's time."

"But-"

"Be silent, little King." Shan Yu moved to the door with the grace of a man half his size. The door was dwarfed next to him. "Sit. Think. Do not act."

Midas scowled as soon as he was alone. The man was a brute, he thought, and completely oblivious to the ebb and flow of Court life. They had to strike quickly, to maintain the advantage of utter surprise. Their campaign would be ruined if they waited a week. Despite Shan Yu's command, Midas called a servant to his side with the ring of a bell.

"Yes, my liege?"

"Deliver a message to the harbor master."

"Of course, my liege."

As Midas dictated his message, a smile over took his face. The first step in taking down the neighboring kingdom was in taking down their Knight. This could hardly be done directly, however, as the woman's fighting prowess was renowned. Still, no creature was entirely impervious. The Dark Knight had a weakness, and he was going to hit it.

0-0-0

Emma felt uncomfortable that evening, though she couldn't put her finger on why. The atmosphere of Court had always been raucous to a certain extent, but the air was somehow thick that evening. The men were louder, she thought, and the conversation more focused on acts of violence. Had it always been this way, she wondered, or had Regina simply changed her that profoundly?

"Are you prepared to fight?"

She blinked and turned to David, who raised his eyebrows at her. "Of course."

"You have no idea what I'm saying, do you?"

"I was thinking."

He snorted. "Your job is not to think, Knight."

The use of her title made her want to grimace, but she hid the expression by reaching up and wiping her mouth with her palm. He was her father but acknowledging that might kill him. Her deficiency had nearly cost him his life when she was born. She knew there was some resentment still brewing between them over that, but neither was willing to bring it up – him because he knew she could kill him without breaking a sweat, and her because she didn't want to hurt him. Despite his shortcomings, he was her father, and the Consort – and there were just too many reasons to avoid that particular confrontation.

"I have a brain, no matter how little I use it," she countered. "I was considering the raiders in the East."

"What about them?"

"Their strategy lies in the pure number of their forces. We have superior weapons, and better training practices, but those don't seem to matter when there are five of them to one of us. This doesn't preclude victory, however." She mused for a moment and then continued, "The key, I'd think, isn't in sending more men, but in using their numbers against them."

"How so?"

"We've intercepted their orders before. Seems to me the most efficient victory would come from altering directives, so that they attacked each other."

He laughed, slamming his fist against the table. "That would never work. You should stick to slicing your sword where we tell you to, Knight. Diverting your attention like this will only lead to distraction – and distraction will only lead to beheading."

She watched him draw his thumb across his throat and shrugged. No matter how much she disagreed, she still owed him deference, so she ducked her head. "Yes, sir."

Her stomach rumbled just as the servers entered the hall, platters full of the first course – what smelled like a delicious vegetable soup. Emma glanced beside her silent wife, who sat next to her. The woman had been stewing for days and had nothing but harsh glares for her. Emma was going to change that. She reached over and gently squeezed the brunette's thigh. She expected to be rebuffed, but Regina remained stoically silent.

The serving girl leaned over Emma's shoulder, a bowl of steaming hot soup in on hand. Someone crossing behind her bumped against her and the hot liquid sloshed over the lip of the bowl and dropped into Emma's lap. Emma leapt to her feet with a yowl, grabbed the girl's wrist, and tensed her arm – her grip would no doubt leave a colorful bruise. Burned and angry, Emma drew her hand back to slap the stupid girl. She froze, however, with her hand drawn back.

She had a choice. She could backhand the servant or she could let the girl go. The hall had fallen silent and all eyes were fixated on her. From the corner of her eye she could see Snow watching her with keen interest. More pressing than that, however, was the idea that Regina was watching her. With an angry grunt, she shoved the girl roughly away. The servant fell to the ground and bit back a sob.

"Leave. Before I change my mind."

The servant stood quickly, wiped at her eyes, and fled. Emma returned to her seat and loudly demanded a fresh bowl. Her thighs ached terribly, but it wouldn't do to exhibit any signs of weakness – especially after her performance. She chanced a glance at Snow; the woman looked amused, which was worrisome. Emma had been expecting some sort of rage or disappointment.

"You could have killed her, you know," David murmured.

"Waste of effort. She spilled my soup. It's not like she hurt me."

His eyes drifted down to her wet lap. "Indeed?"

"Indeed," she snapped. To prove how well she was, she crossed her legs. The pain was fairly intense, but she'd felt worse. She smirked at him and leaned back in her chair. "If I killed every servant that made a mistake, we'd be out of servants by sundown."

"I suppose."

"She'll think twice about being clumsy," she added, "so I believe her lesson has been learned."

Before he could answer her, the doors to the hall swung open and three figures entered. The head figure wore wide-shouldered armor with a red sash around her waist. The two men flanking her wore helmets with large teal plumes and stopped when she stopped. They stood silently with their hands locked behind their backs and their stances solid.

"I am Fa Mulan," the woman announced. "An ambassador from the East. Will you treat with me?"

Snow leaned an elbow against the table. "You interrupt our meal."

"I sent advanced word. I am not to blame if your servants are inept."

Snow nodded. "They are not inept. I received your message – I simply hadn't expected you to be so rude as to barge in unannounced while we feast. Leave, and allow me to finish my meal. We will talk after."

Mulan bowed stiffly and motioned for her men to leave. "I will not forget this rude behavior."

"Neither will I," Snow promised.

Emma uncrossed her legs and bit back a groan. The pained noise was more from the pain rather than the recent development, but nobody was paying attention to her anymore. This was for the best, she thought. The only one still watching her was Regina, but she couldn't discern if there were good or bad feelings in the brunette's gaze.

As conversation erupted once more, focusing in upon the visitors, Emma bent toward Regina. "Would you like to meet the woman who raised me?"

"Why would I want that?"

"Is this truly to be your attitude for the rest of our coexistence?"

Regina dipped her spoon into her soup. "Perhaps."

"How long can you possible hold a grudge? I said I was sorry," Emma whispered, afraid that someone might overhear her concession.

"Why does it matter to you so much?"

Emma sat upright once more and waited for a fresh bowl of soup to be placed in front of her. She had no good answer for Regina, other than that she missed having the woman in her bed – which was only part of the truth. She'd considered simply forcing herself upon Regina, as was her right as marital spouse, but she was trying to do right. Though there was no law against such conduct, she knew that any chance of alleviating Regina's disgust would be destroyed if she acted out that impulse.

She had been patient before and had no designs upon having sexual contact with her wife, but Regina instigated their first encounter. Now Emma felt addicted to the woman's touch. It was perhaps because the gentleness of their time together was a stark contrast with Emma's daily life. She was supposed to lead armies and command the masses with the flick of her blade, but Regina so easily overpowered her with sweet kisses and soft fingers.

"She wanted to meet you, is all," Emma finally spat out. "However, I'll tell her that you have no interest in her."

"When?"

"The next time I see her."

Regina huffed, "No, when will I meet her?"

"Tonight, if you're willing. You'll also meet my sister."

"You have a sister?"

"Sort of," Emma demurred. She kept her eyes on Snow and tried to move her lips as little as possible. "We'll talk more after dinner – in the privacy of our quarters."

Recognizing that Emma's nervousness was due to the context of their conversation, rather than the content, Regina nodded curtly. "Very well."

This time when Emma placed her hand on Regina's thigh, the brunette grudgingly covered it with her own hands.

0-0-0

"Are you prepared to open discussion?" Snow settled against her throne and eyed Mulan with undisguised disdain. She'd heard of the fabled warriors of the East, but their raiding parties were rather tedious. This woman didn't look particularly special, and she had her doubts as to Mulan's actual skill level.

"I am."

"What do you have to offer?"

Mulan offered a bound scroll, which Snow accepted. She stood at attention as Snow undid the ties, perused the content, and finally looked back up. Snow tossed the scroll to Mulan's feet and laughed.

"This peace treaty is a joke."

"May I ask what displeases you?" Mulan ached to react more strongly to the offense. It was true – the treaty was a sham of an excuse to insinuate Mulan into the Court for reconnaissance – but Snow's behavior was disrespectful. A leader ought not act that way, Mulan decided.

"You ask for our men in your battles, but offer nothing in return but a promise not to attack."

"We could overwhelm your forces."

"I'd like to see you try." Snow chuckled and shifted to get more comfortable. "He sends an unproven soldier to offer me trash. Your Shan Yu is no man to be feared, or trusted. His deal with Midas has fallen through and now he seeks protection in light of the fall out."

"You've seen so easily through his ploy," Mulan intoned. "So what is your response?"

Snow narrowed her gaze. "I want to see you fight."

Mulan's hand went automatically to the blade fastened to her side. "Very well."

"Not now. Tomorrow. You will face our Dark Knight. If you can best her, then we'll talk." Snow stood, tossed her head imperiously, and left Mulan standing in the center of the throne room. She had been impolite to whet the woman's blade – and tomorrow she'd see just what Shan Yu thought he was offering.

Swallowing her anger, Mulan turned abruptly and left the room as well. She rejoined her men in their temporary quarters and shook her head at them when they shot her questioning looks. The bulkier of the two, Chien Po, grimaced.

"It didn't go well?"

"Worse than expected," she stated, pulling her sash off. "We may not make it a week here."

The other man, Ling, chuckled. "We knew it would be a hard sell."

"The woman is impossible." Mulan rubbed the back of her neck. "She threw the offer at my feet and called Shan Yu a fool."

Chien Po winced. "We won't tell him that."

"I am to fight their champion tomorrow."

"You can do it." Ling exchanged an excited look with Chien Po and then beamed at Mulan. He raised his gangly fists and pretended to box with her. "You're the best."

"I'm not worried about the match," she responded, rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm. "We're here to complete a mission, not to impress the locals."

"Can't we do both?"

Chien Po nodded thoughtfully, "Perform well and they may respect you more."

"And they may kick us out prematurely." She sighed and reclined on their chaise lounge. She would not beat the Knight, even if she could. She would come close, though. She'd seen the woman during dinner and wasn't sure what to make of the woman. The rumor was she had practically beaten a servant for sloshing soup, but the blonde had been staring at the woman next to her with a fairly fond gaze. Their battle would perhaps give her a better idea of what she was dealing with.

0-0-0

"So you're her."

Regina stood still while Gram circled her. Emma leaned against the far wall, trying to look completely disinterested in what was happening. When the older woman reached into Regina's pocket, though, she immediately lost the pretext of apathy.

"What are you doing?"

"Were you aware that someone slipped this into your pocket?" Gram held up a dark stone.

Regina shook her head. "I wasn't… What is it?"

"A curse." Gram tossed it out the window. "Or at least it reeked of dark magic."

"You can smell curses?"

"That's why I'm here. Queen Snow uses me to check the castle," Gram responded, her gaze flickering to Emma's face. "She's pretty, child. I'll give you that."

Regina wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment and so did not respond. Emma, though, practically beamed. "I knew you'd like her."

"I don't know about that."

Regina folded her arms over her stomach and let one eyebrow migrate up her forehead. "Excuse me?"

"You hurt her, child." Gram focused her intent stare on Regina. "She does her best by you and you spit on her. That's hardly the behavior to be expected of a person's spouse."

"Perhaps if that spouse willingly entered the arrangement," Regina snapped. "Or am I to be completely powerless?"

"Gram…"

"Hush." Gram shot Emma a terse look, before turning back to Regina. "Don't make me regret removing that curse from you. It smelled like a doozy, dear. You might have died by the end of the week."

"Am I supposed to thank you?"

"Yes, you are."

"Thank you for ensuring that my servitude to this woman will not be interrupted." Regina wasn't sure where the anger was coming from, but it felt like she were a cat being pet from tail to head. "I'll send a messenger with my formal gratitude in the morning."

"Regina…"

"She keeps you safe." The hard edge to Gram's words faded. "But you know that. You're just scared."

"I'm afraid of nothing."

"Spoken like a coward."

Regina resisted the urge to stamp her foot. "What are you suggesting?"

"Real bravery comes from admitting your fears, and facing them anyway. Cowardice is pretending they don't exist."

Gram crossed to Emma and placed a tender hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Do you really think she's worth the fuss?"

Emma met Regina's incredulous gaze and nodded slowly. "I think so."

"Well, she certainly is feisty. Do your best by her. And you," Gram said to Regina, "go easier on her. This life is all she's known and you've yanked the rug from beneath her feet. You've both changed each other's existence, so you may as well take responsibility for one another."

When they were alone, Emma approached slowly. She extended her hands and was surprised when Regina bypassed them and nestled against her chest. Her hands came to rest on Regina's lower back and her cheek against Regina's ear.

"I really am sorry," Emma murmured. Her fingers tightened in Regina's blouse.

"I haven't forgiven you. I simply have grown tired of fighting."

"I can deal with that."

"I am – happy that you didn't hurt that girl."

Emma grinned. "I'm trying. I promise, I am trying."

"But what of your position as Dark Knight?"

"I can be ferocious in battle, but just in other places." Emma inhaled Regina's scent and relaxed. "Have… have you been back out to see Daniel?"

"I have not. I'd hate for him to get beaten because I wished to see him."

Taking a deep breath, Emma braced herself. After several seconds she gritted out, "I won't attack him. You may see him whenever you please."

"I don't need your permission."

"But you do need my promise that I won't try to stop you. And I won't. If he – If you love him, then I won't stand in your way. Our vow was unbreakable, but if he is what you need-"

"I don't love him." Regina pulled back. "He was merely the first friendly face I'd seen in months. My relationship with him is purely platonic."

"I'm glad to hear it, but – if that's what you wanted, and I was in the way…" Emma swallowed, ignoring the sudden churning in her belly. "It's dangerous to be seen with him, but I will do whatever it takes."

"Dangerous?"

"That cursed stone was just the beginning." Emma licked her lips. "My mother sees you as a liability to her rule, and to my ability to do as she bids. Those who wish to damage the Crown know they cannot strike the Queen directly, and my reputation in battle staves off most attacks – but most are becoming aware that you are my weakness."

Regina's gaze lowered to the stone floor. "I hadn't realized-"

"This is not your world," Emma demurred. "But that doesn't mean it can't hurt you."

"I would like to see him."

"Then I'll find a way."

Tentative, Regina leaned up and pressed her lips to Emma's. "I suppose I have forgiven you."

0-0-0

Emma bowed deeply to Snow as she entered the Queen's chambers. Snow barely glanced at her, but didn't send her away – which she took as a positive sign. She stopped several feet away, stood at attention, and waited for Snow to address her first. This took several minutes, during which time Emma examined the ornate wall hangings. Each depicted a famous battle – a cheerful way to decorate a bed chamber, Emma thought.

"Yes?"

"I have come to ask about that locked door in the dungeon."

Snow powdered her nose, her hand barely hesitating. "Locked door…?"

"At the end of the corridor. It's sealed with magic, or so I've been told." Emma kept her eyes trained on Snow's face. She had a fairly good idea that Snow was feigning ignorance, which only intrigued her further. "What's behind it?"

"If it's locked, then there is no doubt good reason to not snoop further, Knight."

"I was just curious," Emma responded. "I'm not snooping. I merely came across the door and was confused about it being locked."

"All doors in the dungeon are locked." Snow laughed. "That's how you keep the prisoners imprisoned."

"So there's a prisoner behind it?"

"I don't know."

"That's what you just said."

"I tire of this conversation." Snow waved her hand. "Go away."

"Yes, my Queen."

"But do be aware that I've scheduled you an exhibition match tomorrow just before lunch."

"I had plans with Henry-"

"Which can be rescheduled. Do you want to shame your kingdom?"

Snow's eyes were hawk-like upon Emma. The blonde struggled with her urge to disclaim the kingdom entirely and bowed her head.

"I will be there. May I ask who my opponent is?"

"Fa Mulan. I expect you to win – otherwise I can't imagine any purpose in keeping you around."

Emma bit down on her inner cheek to keep from responding. She left quickly, before she could worsen any aspect of the situation, and hurried down the hallway. With Regina's wrath rescinded, she presumed they might share a bed that evening.

If she lost, it would mean death. Either Fa Mulan would slay her in battle, or Snow would execute her for her failure. With the possibility of her death on the horizon, she wanted nothing more than Regina in her arms while she slept.


End file.
